CONTAINING VARIOUS SECTIONS OF THE WORKSbody {font-size:15; font-family:tim s, arial, garamond, helvetica, times; text-align:justify}p {font-size:15; f nt-family:times, arial,

garamond, helvetica, times; text-align:justify}pre font-size:14; font-style: italic; font-family:times, arial, courier; text-a ign:center}pre.poem {font-size:14; font-style: italic; font-family:times, a ial, courier; text-align:center}pre.chart {font-size:10; font-weight: bold; font-family:courier; text-align:center}h3 {font-size:16; font-weight: bold; font-family:courier; text-align:center}CONTAINING VARIOUS SECTIONS OF THE W RKSDIONYSIUS This page copyright © 2002 Blackmask Online. http:/ www.blackmask.com I.—FROM THE TWO BOOKS ON THE PROMISES.(1)II.&#82 2;FROM THE BOOKS ON NATURE.(7)III. A REFUTATION ON THE GROUND OF THE CONSTI UTION OF THE UNIVERSE.IV. A REFUTATION OF THE SAME ON THE GROUNDS OF THE HU AN CONSTITUTION.V. THAT TO WORK IS NOT A MATTER OF PAIN AND WEARINESS TO GO .CANON I.CANON II. CANON lII. CANON IV. I.—FROM THE TWO BOOKS ON TH PROMISES.(1)

I. But as they produce a certain composition by Nepos (2) on which they insist very strongly, as if it demonstrated incontestably that there will be a (temporal) reign of Christ upon the earth, I have to s y, that in many other respects I accept the opinion of Nepos, and love him t once for his faith, and his laboriousness, and his patient study in the S riptures, as also for his great efforts in psalmody,(3) by which even now m ny of the brethren are delighted. I hold the man, too, in deep respect stil more, inasmuch as(4) he has gone to his rest before us. Nevertheless the t uth is to be prized and reverenced above all things else. And while it is i deed proper to praise and approve ungrudgingly anything that is said aright it is no less proper to examine and correct anything which may appear to h ve been written unsoundly. If he had been present then himself, and had bee stating his opinions orally, it would have been sufficient to discuss the uestion together without the use of writing, and to endeavour to convince t e opponents, and carry them along by interrogation and reply. But the work s published, and is, as it seems to some, of a very persuasive character; a d there are unquestionably some teachers, who hold that the law and the pro hets are of no importance, and who decline to follow the Gospels, and who d preciate the epistles of the apostles, and who have also made large promise (5) regarding the doctrine of this composition, as though it were some grea and hidden mystery, and who, at the same time, do not allow that our simpl r brethren have any sublime and elevated conceptions either of our Lord's a pearing in His glory and His true divinity, or of our own resurrection from the dead, and of our being gathered together to Him, and assimilated to Him but, on the contrary, endeavour to lead them to hope(6) for things which a e trivial and corruptible, and only such as what we find at present in the ingdom of God. And since this is the case, it becomes necessary for us to d scuss this subject with our brother Nepos just as if he were present. . After certain other mailers, he adds the following statement:—Being then in the Arsinoitic(7) prefecture—where, as you are aware, this do trine was current long ago, and caused such division, that schisms and apos asies took place I in whole churches — I called together the presbyte s and the teachers among the brethren in the villages, and those of the bre

hren also who wished to attend were present. I exhorted them to make an inv stigation into that dogma in public. Accordingly, when they had brought thi book before us, as though it were a kind of weapon or impregnable battleme t, I sat with them for three days in succession from morning till evening, nd attempted to set them right on the subjects propounded in the compositio . Then, too, I was greatly gratified by observing the constancy of the bret ren, and their love of the truth, and their docility and intelligence, as w proceeded, in an orderly method, and in a spirit of moderation, to deal wi h questions, and difficulties, and concessions. For we took care not to pre s, in every way and with jealous urgency, opinions which had once been adop ed, even although they might appear to be correct.(1) Neither did we evade bjections alleged by others; but we endeavoured as far as possible to keep y the subject in hand, and to establish the positions pertinent to it. Nor, again, were we ashamed to change our opinions, if reason convinced us, and o acknowledge the fact; but rather with a good conscience, and in all since ity, and with open hearts(2) before God, we accepted all that could be esta lished by the demonstrations and teachings of the Holy Scriptures. And at l st the author and introducer of this doctrine, whose name was Coracion, in he hearing of all the brethren present, made acknowledgment of his position and engaged to us that he would no longer hold by his opinion, nor discuss it, nor mention it, nor teach it, as he had been completely convinced by th arguments of those opposed to it. The rest of the brethren, also, who were present, were delighted with the conference, and with the conciliatory spir t and the harmony exhibited by all. 3. Then, a little further on, he s eaks of the Revelation of John as follows:—Now some before our time h ve set aside this book, and repudiated it entirely, criticising it chapter y chapter, and endeavouring to show it to be without either sense or reason They have alleged also that its title is false; for they deny that John is the author. Nay, further, they hold that it can be no sort of revelation, b cause it is covered with so gross and dense a veil of ignorance. They affir , therefore, that none of the apostles, nor indeed any of the saints, nor a y person belonging to the Church, could be its author; but that Cerinthus,( ) and the heretical sect founded by him, and named after him the Cerinthian sect, being desirous of attaching the authority of a great name to the fict on propounded by him, prefixed that title to the book. For the doctrine inc lcated by Cerinthus is this: that there will be an earthly reign of Christ and as he was himself a man devoted to the pleasures of the body, and alto ether carnal l in his dispositions, he fancied(4) that that kingdom would c nsist in those kinds of gratifications on which his own heart was set,&#821 ;to wit, in the delights of the belly, and what comes beneath the belly, th t is to say, in eating and drinking, and marrying, and in other things unde the guise of which he thought he could indulge his appetites with a better grace,(5) such as festivals, and sacrifices, and the slaying of victims. Bu I, for my part, could not venture to set this book aside, for there are ma y brethren who value it highly. Yet, having formed an idea of it as a compo ition exceeding my capacity of understanding, I regard it as containing a k nd of hidden and wonderful intelligence on the several subjects which come nder it. For though I cannot comprehend it, I still suspect that there is s me deeper sense underlying the words. And I do not measure and judge its ex ressions by the standard of my own reason, but, making more allowance for f ith, I have simply regarded them as too lofty for my comprehension; and I d not forthwith reject what I do not understand, but I am only the more fill d with wonder at it, in that I have not been able to discern its import.(6) 4. After this, he examines the whole book of the Revelation; and havin proved that it cannot possible be understood according to the bald, litera sense, he proceeds thus:—When the prophet now has completed, so to s

eak, the whole prophecy, he pronounces those blessed who should observe it, and names himself, too, in the number of the same: "For blessed," says he, "is he that keepeth the words of the prophecy of this book; a d I John who saw and heard these things."(1) That this person was call d John, therefore, and that this was the writing of a John, I do not deny. nd I admit further, that it was also the work of some holy and inspired man But I could not so easily admit that this was the apostle, the son of Zebe ee, the brother of James, and the same person with him who wrote the Gospel which bears the title according to John, and the catholic epistle. But from the character of both, and the forms of expression, and the whole dispositi n and execution(2) of the book, I draw the conclusion that the authorship i not his. For the evangelist nowhere else subjoins his name, and he never p oclaims himself either in the Gospel or in the epistle. And a little f rther on he adds:—John, moreover, nowhere gives us the name, whether s of himself directly (in the first person), or as of another (in the third person). But the writer of the Revelation puts himself forward at once in t e very beginning, for he says: "The Revelation of Jesus Christ, which e gave to him to show to His servants quickly; and He sent and signified it by His angel to His servant John, who bare record of the Word of God, and o his testimony, and of all things that he saw."(3) And then he writes lso an epistle, in which he says: "John to the seven churches which ar in Asia, grace be unto you, and peace." The evangelist, on the other and, has not prefixed his name even to the catholic epistle; but without an circumlocution, he has commenced at once with the mystery of the divine re elation itself in these terms: "That which was from the beginning, whi h we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes."(4) And on the grou d of such a revelation as that the Lord pronounced Peter blessed, when He s id: "Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-jona; for flesh and blood hath not re ealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven."(5) And again in the second epistle, which is ascribed to John, the apostle, and in the thir , though they are indeed brief, John is not set before us by name; but we f nd simply the anonymous writing, "The elder." This other author, n the contrary, did not even deem it sufficient to name himself once, and t en to proceed with his narrative; but he takes up his name again, and says: "I John, who also am your brother and companion in tribulation, and in the kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ, was in the isle that is called Pa mos for the Word of God, and for the testimony of Jesus Christ."(6) An likewise toward the end he speaks thus: "Blessed is he that keepeth t e sayings of the prophecy of this book; and I John who saw these things and heard them."(1) That it is a John, then, that writes these things we m st believe, for he himself tells us. 5. What John this is, however, is uncertain. For he has not said, as he often does in the Gospel, that he is he disciple beloved by the Lord, or the one that leaned on His bosom, or th brother of James, or one that was privileged to see and hear the Lord. And surely he would have given us some of these indications if it had been his urpose to make himself clearly known. But of all this he offers us nothing; and he only calls himself our brother and companion, and the witness of Jes s, and one blessed with the seeing and hearing of these revelations. I am a so of opinion that there were many persons of the same name with John the a ostle, who by their love for him, and their admiration and emulation of him and their desire to be loved by the Lord as he was loved, were induced to mbrace also the same designation, just as we find many of the children of t e faithful called by the names of Paul and Peter.(7) There is, besides, ano her John mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles, with the surname Mark, whom Barnabas and Paul attached to themselves as companion, and of whom again it is said: "And they had also John to their minister."(8) But wheth

r this is the one who wrote the Revelation, I could not say. For it is not ritten that he came with them into Asia. But the writer says: "Now whe Paul and his company loosed from Paphos, they came to Perga in Pamphylia: nd John, departing from them, returned to Jerusalem."(9) I think, ther fore, that it was some other one of those who were in Asia. For it is said hat there were two monuments in Ephesus, and that each of these bears the n me of John. 6. And from the ideas, and the expressions, and the colloc tion of the same, it may be very reasonably conjectured that this one is di tinct from that.(1) For the Gospel and the Epistle agree with each other, a d both commence in the same way. For the one opens thus, "In the begin ing was the Word;" while the other opens thus, "That which was fr m the beginning." The one says: "And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us; and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the Only-begotten f the Father."(2) The other says the same things, with a slight altera ion: "That which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, whic we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, of the Word of life: and he life was manifested."(3) For these things are introduced by way of relude, and in opposition, as he has shown in the subsequent parts, to thos who deny that the Lord is come in the flesh. For which reason he has also een careful to add these words: "And that which we have seen we testif , and show unto you that eternal life which was with the Father, and was ma ifested unto us: that which we have seen and heard declare we unto you.&quo ;(4) Thus he keeps to himself, and does not diverge inconsistently from his subjects, but goes through them all under the same heads and in the same ph aseologies, some of which we shall briefly mention. Thus the attentive read r will find the phrases, "the life," "the light," occur ing often in both; and also such expressions as fleeing from darkness, hold ng the truth, grace, joy, the flesh and the blood of the Lord, the judgment the remission of sins, the love of God toward us, the commandment of love n our side toward each other; as also, that we ought to keep all the comman ments, the conviction of the world, of the devil, of Antichrist, the promis of the Holy Spirit, the adoption of God, the faith required of us in all t ings, the Father and the Son, named as such everywhere. And altogether, thr ugh their whole course, it will be evident that the Gospel and the Epistle re distinguished by one and the same character of writing. But the Revelati n is totally different, and altogether distinct from this; and I might almo t say that it does not even come near it, or border upon it. Neither does i contain a syllable in common with these other books. Nay more, the Epistle #8212;for I say nothing of the Gospel—does not make any mention or ev nce any notion of the Revelation and the Revelation, in like manner, gives o note of the Epistle. Whereas Paul gives some indication of his revelation in his epistles; which revelations, however, he has not recorded in writin by themselves. 7. And furthermore, on the ground of difference in dic ion, it is possible to prove a distinction between the Gospel and the Epist e on the one hand, and the Revelation on the other. For the former are writ en not only without actual error as regards the Greek language, but also wi h the greatest elegance, both in their expressions and in their reasonings, and in the whole structure of their style. They are very far indeed from be raying any barbarism or solecism, or any sort of vulgarism, in their dictio . For, as might be presumed, the writer possessed the gift of both kinds of discourse,(5) the Lord having bestowed both these capacities upon him, viz. that of knowledge and that of expression. That the author of the latter, h wever, saw a revelation, and received knowledge and prophecy, I do not deny Only I perceive that his dialect and language are not of the exact Greek t pe, and that he employs barbarous idioms, and in some places also solecisms These, however, we are under no necessity of seeking out at present. And I

would not have any one suppose that I have said these things in the spirit f ridicule; for I have done so only with the purpose of setting right this atter of the dissimilarity subsisting between these writings.(6)II.—F OM THE BOOKS ON NATURE.(7) I. IN OPPOSITION TO THOSE OF THE SCHOOL OF E ICURUS WHO DENY THE EXISTENCE OF A PROVIDENCE, AND REFER THE CONSTITUTION O THE UNIVERSE TO ATOMIC BODIES.

Is the universe one coherent whole, as it seems to be in our own judgment, as well as in that of the wisest of he Greek philosophers, such as Plato and Pythagoras, and the Stoics and Her clitus? or is it a duality, as some may possibly have conjectured? or is it indeed something manifold and infinite, as has been the opinion of certain thers who, with a variety of mad speculations and fanciful usages of terms, have sought to divide and resolve the essential matter(1) of the universe, nd lay down the position that it is infinite and unoriginated, and without he sway of Providence?(2) For there are those who, giving the name of atoms to certain imperishable and most minute bodies which are supposed to be inf nite in number, and positing also the existence of a certain vacant space o an unlimited vastness, allege that these atoms, as they are borne along ca ually in the void, and clash all fortuitously against each other in an unre ulated whirl, and become commingled one with another in a multitude of form , enter into combination with each other, and thus gradually form this worl and all objects in it; yea, more, that they construct infinite worlds. Thi was the opinion of Epicurus and Democritus; only they differed in one poin , in so far as the former supposed these atoms to be all most minute and co sequently imperceptible, while Democritus held that there were also some am ng them of a very large size. But they both hold that such atoms do exist, nd that they are so called on account of their indissoluble consistency. Th re are some, again, who give the name of atoms to certain bodies which are ndivisible into parts, while they are themselves parts of the universe, out of which in their undivided state all things are made up, and into which th y are dissolved again. And the allegation is, that Diodorus was the person ho gave them their names as bodies indivisible into parts.(3) But it is als said that Heraclides attached another name to them, and called them " eights;"(4) and from him the physician Asclepiades also derived that n me.(5) II. A REFUTATION OF THIS DOGMA ON THE GROUND OF FAMILIAR HUMAN A ALOGIES. How, shall we bear with these men who assert that all those w se, and consequently also noble, constructions (in the universe) are only t e works of common chance? those objects, I mean, of which each taken by its lf as it is made, and the whole system collectively, were seen to be good b Him by whose command they came into existence. For, as it is said, "G d saw everything that He had made, and, behold, it was very good."(6) ut truly these men do not reflect on(7) the analogies even of small familia things which might come under their observation at any time, and from whic they might learn that no object of any utility, and fitted to be serviceab e, is made without design or by mere chance, but is wrought by skill of han , and is contrived so as to meet its proper use. And when the object falls ut of service and becomes useless, then it also begins to break up indeterm nately, and to decompose and dissipate its materials in every casual and un egulated way, just as the wisdom by which it was skilfully constructed at f rst no longer controls and maintains it. For a cloak, for example, cannot b made without the weaver, as if the warp could be set aright and the woof c

uld be entwined with it by their own spontaneous action; while, on the othe hand, if it is once worn out, its tattered rags are flung aside. Again, wh n a house or a city is built, it does not take on its stones, as if some of them placed themselves spontaneously upon the foundations, and others lifte themselves up on the several layers, but the builder carefully disposes th skilfully prepared stones in their proper positions; while if the structur happens once to give way, the stones are separated and cast down and scatt red about. And so, too, when a ship is built, the keel does not lay itself, neither does the mast erect itself in the centre, nor do all the other timb rs take up their positions casually and by their own motion. Nor, again, do the so-called hundred beams in the wain fit themselves spontaneously to the vacant spaces they severally light on. But the carpenter in both cases puts the materials together in the right way and at the right time.(8) And if th ship goes to sea and is wrecked, or if the wain drives along on land and i shattered, their timbers are broken up and cast abroad anywhere,—tho e of the former by the waves, and those of the latter by the violence of th impetus. In like manner, then, we might with all propriety say also to the e men, that those atoms of theirs, which remain idle and unmanipulated and seless, are introduced vainly. Let them, accordingly, seek for themselves t see into what is beyond the reach of sight, and conceive what is beyond th range of conception;(9) unlike him who in these terms confesses to God tha things like these had been shown him only by God Himself: "Mine eyes id see Thy work, being till then imperfect."(1) But when they assert n w that all those things of grace and beauty, which they declare to be textu es finely wrought out of atoms, are fabricated spontaneously by these bodie without either wisdom or perception in them, who can endure to hear(2) the talk in such terms of those unregulated(3) atoms, than which even the spid r, that plies its proper craft of itself, is gifted with more sagacity?III. A REFUTATION ON THE GROUND OF THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNIVERSE.

Or ho can bear to hear it maintained, that this mighty habitation, which is co stituted of heaven and earth, and which is called "Cosmos" on acc unt of the magnitude and the plenitude of the wisdom which has been brought to bear upon it, has been established in all its order and beauty by those toms which hold their course devoid of order and beauty, and that that same state of disorder has grown into this true Cosmos, Order? Or who can believ that those regular movements and courses are the products of a certain unr gulated impetus? Or who can allow that the perfect concord subsisting among the celestial bodies derives its harmony from instruments destitute both of concord and harmony? Or, again, if there is but one and the same substance( ) in all things, and if there is the same incorruptible nature(5) in all,&# 212;the only elements of difference being, as they aver, size and figure,&# 212;how comes it that there are some bodies divine and perfect,(6) and eter al,(7) as they would phrase it, or lasting,(8) as some one may prefer to ex ress it; and among these some that are visible and others that are invisibl ,—the visible including such as sun, and moon, and stars, and earth, nd water; and the invisible including gods, and demons, and spirits? For th existence of such they cannot possibly deny however desirous to do so. And again, there are other objects that are long-lived, both animals and plants As to animals, there are, for example, among birds, as they say, the eagle the raven, and the phoenix; and among creatures living on land, there are he stag, and the elephant, and the dragon; and among aquatic creatures ther are the whales, and such like monsters of the deep. And as to trees, there are the palm, and the oak, and the persea;(9) and among trees, too, there a e some that are evergreens, of which kind fourteen have been reckoned up by some one; and there are others that only bloom for a certain season, and th n shed their leaves. And there are other objects, again—which indeed

onstitute the vast mass of all which either grow or are begotten—that have an early death and a brief life. And among these is man himself, as a ertain holy scripture says of him: "Man that is born of woman is of fe days."(10) Well, but I suppose they will reply that the varying conju ctions of the atoms account fully for differences(11) so great in the matte of duration. For it is maintained that there are some things that are comp essed together by them, and firmly interlaced, so that they become closely ompacted bodies, and consequently exceedingly hard to break up; while there are others in which more or less the conjunction of the atoms is of a loose and weaker nature, so that either quickly or after some time they separate themselves from their orderly constitution. And, again, there are some bodi s made up of atoms of a definite kind and a certain common figure, while th re are others made up of diverse atoms diversely disposed. But who, then, i the sagacious discriminator,(12) that brings certain atoms into collocatio , and separates others; and marshals some in such wise as to form the sun, nd others in such a way as to originate the moon, and adapts all in natural fitness, and in accordance with the proper constitution of each star? For s rely neither would those solar atoms, with their peculiar size and kind, an with their special mode of collocation, ever have reduced themselves so as to effect the production of a moon; nor, on the other hand, would the conju ctions of these lunar atoms ever have developed into a sun. And as certainl neither would Arcturus, resplendent as he is, ever boast his having the at ms possessed by Lucifer, nor would the Pleiades glory in being constituted f those of Orion. For well has Paul expressed the distinction when he says: "There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and ano her glory of the stars: for one star differeth from another star in glory.& uot;(13) And if the coalition effected among them has been an unintelligent one, as is the case with soulless(14) objects, then they must needs have ha some sagacious artificer; and if their union has been one without the dete mination of will, and only of necessity, as is the case with irrational obj cts, then some skilful leader(1) must have brought them together and taken hem under his charge. And if they have linked themselves together spontaneo sly, for a spontaneous work, then some admirable architect must have apport oned their work for them, and assumed the superintendence among them; or th re must have been one to do with them as the general does who loves order a d discipline, and who does not leave his army in an irregular condition, or suffer all things to go on confusedly, but marshals the cavalry in their pr per succession, and disposes the heavy-armed infantry in their due array, a d the javelin-men by themselves, and the archers separately, and the slinge s in like manner, and sets each force in its appropriate position, in order that all those equipped in the same way may engage together. But if these t achers think that this illustration is but a joke, because I institute a co parison between very large bodies and very small, we may pass to the very s allest. Then we have what follows:—But if neither the word, nor he choice, nor the order of a ruler is laid upon them, and if by their own ct they keep themselves right in the vast commotion of the stream in which hey move, and convey themselves safely through the mighty uproar of the col isions, and if like atoms meet and group themselves with like, not as being brought together by God, according to the poet's fancy, but rather as natur lly recognising the affinities subsisting between each other, then truly we have here a most marvellous democracy of atoms, wherein friends welcome and embrace friends, and all are eager to sojourn together in one domicile; whi e some by their own determination have rounded themselves off into that mig ty luminary the sun, so as to make day; and others have formed themselves i to many pyramids of blazing stars, it may be, so as to crown also the whole heavens; and others have reduced themselves into the circular figure, so as to impart a certain solidity to the ether, and arch it over, and constitute it a vast graduated ascent of luminaries, with this object also, that the v

rious conventions of the commoner atoms may select settlements for themselv s, and portion out the sky among them for their habitations and stations. Then, after certain other matters, the discourse proceeds thus:—Bu inconsiderate men do not see even things that are apparent, and certainly hey are far from being cognisant of things that are unapparent. For they do not seem even to have any notion of those regulated risings and settings of the heavenly bodies,—those of the sun, with all their wondrous glory, no less than those of the others; nor do they appear to make due applicatio of the aids furnished through these to men, such as the day that rises cle r for man's work, and the night that overshadows earth for man's rest. &quo ;For man," it is said, "goeth forth unto his work, and to his lab ur, until the evening."(2) Neither do they consider that other revolut on, by which the sun makes out for us determinate times, and convenient sea ons, and regular successions, directed by those atoms of which it consists. But even though men like these—and miserable men they are, however th y may believe themselves to be righteous—may choose not to admit it, here is a mighty Lord that made the sun, and gave it the impetus(3) for its course by His words. O ye blind ones, do these atoms of yours bring you the winter season and the rains, in order that the earth may yield food for you and for all creatures living on it? Do they introduce summertime, too, in rder that ye may gather their fruits from the trees for your enjoyment? And why, then, do ye not worship these atoms, and offer sacrifices to them as t e guardians of earth's fruits?(4) Thankless surely are ye, in not setting s lemnly apart for them even the most scanty first-fruits of that abundant bo nty which ye receive from them. After a short break he proceeds thus:& 8212;Moreover, those stars which form a community so multitudinous and vari us, which these erratic and ever self-dispersing atoms have constituted, ha e marked off by a kind of covenant the tracts for their several possessions portioning these out like colonies and governments, but without the presid ncy of any founder or house-master; and with pledged fealty and in peace th y respect the laws of vicinity with their neighbours, and abstain from pass ng beyond the boundaries which they received at the outset, just as if they enjoyed the legislative administration of true princes in the atoms. Nevert eless these atoms exercise no rule. For how could these, that are themselve nothing, do that? But listen to the divine oracles: "The works of the Lord are in judgment; from the beginning, and from His making of them, He d sposed the parts thereof. He garnished His works for ever, and their princi les s unto their generations."(6) Again, after a little, he proce ds thus:—Or what phalanx ever traversed the plain in such perfect ord r, no trooper outmarching the others, or falling out of rank, or obstructin the course, or suffering himself to be distanced by his comrades in the ar ay, as is the case with that steady advance in regular file, as it were, an with close-set shields, which is presented by this serried and unbroken an undisturbed and unobstructed progress of the hosts of the stars? Albeit by side inclinations and flank movements certain of their revolutions become l ss clear. Yet, however that may be, they assuredly always keep their appoin ed periods, and again bear onward determinately to the positions from which they have severally risen, as if they made that their deliberate study. Whe efore let these notable anatomizers of atoms,(1) these dividers of the indi isible, these compounders of the uncompoundable, these adepts in the appreh nsion of the infinite, tell us whence comes this circular march and course f the heavenly bodies, in which it is not any single combination of atoms t at merely chances all unexpectedly to swing itself round in this way;(2) bu it is one vast circular choir that moves thus, ever equally and concordant y, and whirls in these orbits. And whence comes it that this mighty multitu

e of fellow-travellers, all unmarshalled by any captain, all ungifted with ny determination of will, and all unendowed with any knowledge of each othe , have nevertheless held their course in perfect harmony? Surely, well has he prophet ranked this matter among things which are impossible and undemon trable,—namely, that two strangers should walk together. For he says, "Shall two come to the same lodging unless they know each other?" 3)IV. A REFUTATION OF THE SAME ON THE GROUNDS OF THE HUMAN CONSTITUTION.

Further, those men understand neither themselves nor what is proper to themselves. For if any of the leaders in this impious doctrine only conside ed what manner of person he is himself, and whence he comes, he would surel be led to a wise decision, like one who has obtained understanding of hims lf, and would say, not to these atoms, but to his Father and Maker, "T y hands have made me and fashioned me."(4) And he would take up, too, his wonderful account of his formation as it has been given by one of old: quot;Hast Thou not poured me out as milk, and curdled me as choose? Thou ha t clothed me with skin and flesh, and hast fenced me with bones and sinews. Thou hast granted me life and favour, and Thy visitation hath preserved my pirit."(5) For of what quantity and of what origin were the atoms whic the father of Epicurus gave forth from himself when he begat Epicurus? And how, when they were received within his mother's womb, did they coalesce, a d take form and figure? and how were they put in motion and made to increas ? And how did that little seed of generation draw together the many atoms t at were to constitute Epicurus, and change some of them into skin and flesh for a covering, and make bone of others for erectness and strength, and for sinews of others for compact contexture? And how did it frame and adapt th many other members and parts—heart and bowels, and organs of sense, ome within and some without—by which the body is made a thing of life For of all these things there is not one either idle or useless: not even he meanest of them—the hair, or the nails, or such like—is so; ut all have their service to do, and all their contribution to make, some o them to the soundness of bodily constitution, and others of them to beauty of appearance. For Providence cares not only for the useful, but also for t e seasonable and beautiful.(6) Thus the hair is a kind of protection and co ering for the whole head, and the beard is a seemly ornament for the philos pher. It was Providence, then, that formed the constitution of the whole bo y of man, in all its necessary parts, and imposed on all its members their ue connection with each other, and measured out for them their liberal supp ies from the universal resources. And the most prominent of these show clea ly, even to the uninstructed, by the proof of personal experience, the valu and service attaching to them: the head, for example, in the position of s premacy, and the senses set like a guard about the brain, as the ruler in t e citadel; and the advancing eyes, and the reporting ears; and the taste wh ch, as it were, is the tribute-gatherer;(7) and the smell, which tracks and searches out its objects: and the touch, which manipulates all put under it Hence we shall only run over in a summary way, at present, some few o the works of an all-wise Providence; and after a little we shall, if God g ant it, go over them more minutely, when we direct our discourse toward one who has the repute of greater learning. So, then, we have the ministry of t e hands, by which all kinds of works are wrought, and all skilful professio s practised, and which have all their various faculties furnished them, wit a view to the discharge of one common function; and we have the shoulders, with their capacity for bearing burdens; and the fingers, with their power f grasping; and the elbows, with their faculty of bending, by which they ca turn inwardly, upon the body, or take an outward inclination, so as to be ble either to draw objects toward the body, or to thrust them away from it.

We have also the service of the feet, by which the whole terrestrial creati n is made to come under our power, the earth itself is traversed thereby, t e sea is made navigable, the rivers are crossed, and intercourse is establi hed for all with all things. The belly, too, is the storehouse of meats, wi h all its parts arranged in their proper collocations, so that it apportion for itself the right measure of aliment, and ejects what is over and above that. And so is it with all the other things by which manifestly the due ad inistration of the constitution of man is wisely secured.(1) Of all these, he intelligent and the unintelligent alike enjoy the same use; but they hav not the same comprehension of them.(2) For there are some who refer this w ole economy to a power which they conceive to be a true divinity,(3) and wh ch they apprehend as at once the highest intelligence in all things, and th best benefactor to themselves, believing that this economy is all the work of a wisdom and a might which are superior to every other, and in themselve truly divine. And there are others who aimlessly attribute this whole stru ture of most marvellous beauty to chance and fortuitous coincidence. And in addition to these, there are also certain physicians, who, having made a mo e effective examination into all these things, and having investigated with utmost accuracy the disposition of the inward parts in especial, have been truck with astonishment at the results of their inquiry, and have been led o deify nature itself. The notions of these men we shall review afterwards, as far as we may be able, though we may only touch the surface of the subje t.(4) Meantime, to deal with this matter generally and summarily, let me as who constructed this whole tabernacle of ours, so lofty, erect, graceful, ensitive, mobile, active, and apt for all things? Was it, as they say, the rrational multitude of atoms? Nay, these, by their conjunctions, could not ould even an image of clay, neither could they hew and polish a statue of s one; nor could they cast and finish an idol of silver or gold; but arts and handicrafts calculated for such operations have been discovered by men who abricate these objects.(5) And if, even in these, representations and model cannot be made without the aid of wisdom, how can the genuine and original patterns of these copies have come into existence spontaneously? And whence have come the soul, and the intelligence, and the reason, which are born wi h the philosopher? Has he gathered these from those atoms which are destitu e alike of soul, and intelligence, and reason? and has each of these atoms nspired him with some appropriate conception and notion? And are we to supp se that the wisdom of man was made up by these atoms, as the myth of Hesiod tells us that Pandora was fashioned by the gods? Then shall the Greeks have , to give up speaking of the various species of poetry, and music, and astr nomy, and geometry, and all the other arts and sciences, as the inventions nd instructions of the gods, and shall have to allow that these atoms are t e only muses with skill and wisdom for all subjects. For ibis theogony, con tructed of atoms by Epicurus, is indeed something extraneous to the infinit worlds of order,(6) and finds its refuge in the infinite disorder.(7)V. TH T TO WORK IS NOT A MATTER OF PAIN AND WEARINESS TO GOD.

Now to work and administer, and do good, and exercise care, and such like actions, may perhaps be hard tasks for the idle, and silly, and weak, and wicked; in who e number truly Epicurus reckons himself, when he propounds such notions abo t the gods. But to the earnest, and powerful, and intelligent, and prudent, such as philosophers ought to be—and how much more so, therefore, the gods!—these things are not only not disagreeable and irksome, but eve the most delightful, and by far the most welcome of all. To persons of thi character, negligence and procrastination in the doing of what is good are a reproach, as the poet admonishes them in these words of counsel:— "Delay not aught till the morrow"(8) And then he adds this fur

her sentence of threatening:— "The lazy procrastinator is e er wrestling with miseries."(9) And the prophet teaches us the same le son in a more solemn fashion, and declares that deeds done according to the standard of virtue are truly worthy of God,(1) and that the man who gives n heed to these is accursed: "For cursed be he that doeth the works of he Lord carelessly."(2) Moreover, those who are unversed in any art, a d unable to prosecute it perfectly, feel it to be wearisome when they make heir first attempts in it, just by reason of the novelty(3) of their experi nce, and their want of practice in the works. But those, on the other hand, who have made some advance, and much more those who are perfectly trained i the art, accomplish easily and successfully the objects of their labours, nd have great pleasure in the work, and would choose rather thus, in the di charge of the pursuits to which they are accustomed, to finish and carry pe fectly out what their efforts aim at, than to be made masters of all those hings which are reckoned advantageous among men. Yea, Democritus himself, a it is reported, averred that he would prefer the discovery of one true cau e to being put in possession of the kingdom of Persia. And that was the dec aration of a man who had only a vain and groundless conception of the cause of things,(4) inasmuch as he started with an unfounded principle, and an e roneous hypothesis, and did not discern the real root and the common law of necessity in the constitution of natural things, and held as the greatest w sdom the apprehension of things that come about simply in an unintelligent nd random way, and set up chance(5) as the mistress and queen of things uni ersal, and even things divine, and endeavoured to demonstrate that all thin s happen by the determination of the same, although at the same time he kep it outside the sphere of the life of men, and convicted those of senseless ess who worshipped it. At any rate, at the very beginning of his Precepts(6 he speaks thus: "Men have made an image(7) of chance, as a cover(8) f r their own lack of knowledge. For intellect and chance are in their very n ture antagonistic to each other.(9) And men have maintained that this great st adversary to intelligence is its sovereign. Yea, rather, they completely subvert and do away, with the one, while they establish the other in its pl ce. For they do not celebrate intelligence as the fortunate,(10) but they l ud chance(11) as the most intelligent."(12) Moreover, those who attend to things conducing to the good of life, take special pleasure in what serv s the interests of those of the same race with themselves, and seek the rec mpense of praise and glory in return for labours undertaken in behalf of th general good; while some exert themselves as purveyors of ways and means,( 3) others as magistrates, others as physicians, others as statesmen; and ev n philosophers pride themselves greatly in their efforts after the educatio of men. Will, then, Epicurus or Democritus be bold enough to assert that i the exertion of philosophizing they only cause distress to themselves? Nay rather they will reckon this a pleasure of mind second to none. For even t ough they maintain the opinion that the good is pleasure, they will be asha ed to deny that philosophizing is the greater pleasure to them.(14) But as o the gods, of whom the poets among them sing that they are the "besto ers of good gifts,"(15) these philosophers scoffingly celebrate them i strains like these: "The gods are neither the bestowers nor the share s in any good thing." And in what manner, forsooth, can they demonstra e that there are gods at all, when they neither perceive their presence, no discern them as the doers of aught, wherein, indeed, they resemble those w o, in their admiration and wonder at the sun and the moon and the stars, ha e held these to have been named gods,(16) from their running(17) such cours s: when, further, they do not attribute to them any function or power of op ration,(18) so as to bold them gods(19) from their constituting,(20) that i , from their making objects,(21) for thereby in all truth the one maker and operator of all things must be God: and when, in fine, they do not set fort any administration, or judgment, or beneficence of theirs in relation to m

n, so that we might be bound either by fear or by reverence to worship them Has Epicurus then been able, forsooth, to see beyond this world, and to ov rpass the precincts of heaven? or has he gone forth by some secret gates kn wn to himself alone, and thus obtained sight of the gods in the void?(22) a d, deeming them blessed in their full felicity, and then becoming himself a passionate aspirant after such pleasure, and an ardent scholar in that life which they pursue in the void, does he now call upon all to participate in his felicity, and urge them thus to make themselves like the gods, preparin (1) as their true symposium of blessedness neither heaven nor Olympus, as t e poets feign, but the sheer void, and setting before them the ambrosia of toms,(2) and pledging them in(3) nectar made of the same? However, in matte s which have no relation to us, he introduces into his books a myriad oaths and solemn asseverations, swearing constantly both negatively and affirmati ely by Jove, and making those whom he meets, and with whom he discusses his doctrines, swear also by the gods, not certainly that he fears them himself or has any dread of perjury, but that he pronounces all this to be vain, a d false, and idle, and unintelligible, and uses it simply as a kind of acco paniment to his words, just as he might also clear his throat, or spit, or wist his face, or move his hand. So completely senseless and empty a preten e was this whole matter of the naming of the gods, in his estimation. But t is is also a very patent fact, that, being in fear of the Athenians after ( he warning of) the death of Socrates, and being desirous of preventing his eing taken for what he really was—an atheist—the subtle charlat n invented for them certain empty shadows of unsubstantial gods. But never urely did he look up to heaven with eyes of true intelligence, so as to hea the clear voice from above, which another attentive spectator did hear, an of which he testified when he said, "The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth His handiwork."(4) And never surely did he look down upon the world's surface with due reflection l for then would e have learned that "the earth is full of the goodness of the Lord&quo ;(5) and that "the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof;" 6) and that, as we also read, "After this the Lord looked upon the ear h, and filled it with His blessings. With all manner of living things hath e covered the face thereof."(7) And if these men are not hopelessly bl nded, let them but survey the vast wealth and variety of living creatures, and animals, and winged creatures, and aquatic; and let them understand the that the declaration made by the Lord on the occasion of His judgment of a l things(8) is true: "And all things, in accordance with His command, ppeared good."(9) III.—FROM THE BOOKS AGAINST SABELLIUS.(10) ON THE NOTION THAT MATTER IS UNGENERATED.(11)

These certainly are n t to be deemed pious who hold that matter is ungenerated, while they allow, indeed, that it is brought under the hand of God so far as its arrangement nd regulation are concerned; for they do admit that, being naturally passiv "and pliable, it yields readily to the alterations impressed upon it y God. It is for them, however, to show us plainly how it can possibly be t at the like and the unlike should be predicated as subsisting together in G d and matter. For it becomes necessary thus to think of one as a superior t either, and that is a thought which cannot legitimately be entertained wit regard to God. For if there is this defect of generation which is said to e the thing like in both, and if there is this point of difference which is conceived of besides in the two, whence has this arisen in them? If, indeed God is the ungenerated, and if this defect of generation is, as we may say His very essence, then matter cannot be ungenerated; for God and matter ar not one and the same. But if each subsists properly and independently&#821

;namely, God and matter—and if the defect of generation also belongs o both, then it is evident that there is something different from each, and older and higher than both. But the difference of their contrasted constitu ions is completely subversive of the idea that these can subsist on an equa ity together, and more, that this one of the two—namely, matter&#8212 can subsist of itself. For then they will have to furnish an explanation of the fact that, though both are supposed to be ungenerated, God is neverthel ss impassible, immutable, imperturbable, energetic; while matter is the opp site, impressible, mutable, variable, alterable. And now, how can these pro erties harmoniously co-exist and unite? Is it that God has adapted Himself o the nature of the matter, and thus has skilfully wrought it? But it would be absurd to suppose that God works in gold, as men are wont to do, or hews or polishes stone, or puts His hand to any of the other arts by which diffe ent kinds of matter are made capable of receiving form and figure. But if, n the other hand, He has fashioned matter according to His own will, and af er the dictates of His own wisdom, impressing upon it the rich and manifold forms produced by His own operation, then is this account of ours one both ood and true, and still further one that establishes the position that the ngenerated God is the hypostasis (the life and foundation) of all things in the universe. For with this fact of the defect of generation it conjoins th proper mode of His being. Much, indeed, might be said in confutation of th se teachers, but that is not what is before us at present. And if they are ut alongside the most impious polytheists,[1] these will seem the more piou in their speech. IV.—EPISTLE TO DIONYSIUS BISHOP OF ROME[2] ROM THE FIRST BOOK. 1. There certainly was not a time when God was not the Father.[3] 2. Neither, indeed, as though He had not brought forth hese things, did God afterwards beget the Son, but because the Son has exis ence not flora Himself, but from the Father. And after a few words he ays of the Son Himself:— 3. Being the brightness of the eternal ight, He Himself also is absolutely eternal. For since light is always in e istence, it is manifest that its brightness also exists, because light is p rceived to exist from the fact that it shines, and it is impossible that li ht should not shine. And let us once more come to illustrations. If the sun exists, there is also day; if nothing of this be manifest, it is impossible that the sun should be there. If then the sun were eternal, the day would n ver end; but now, for such is not really the state of the case, the day beg ns with the beginning of the sun, and ends with its ending. But God is the ternal Light, which has neither had a beginning, nor shall ever fail. There ore the eternal brightness shines forth before Him, and co-exists with Him, in that, existing without a beginning, and always begotten, He always shine before Him; and He is that Wisdom which says, "I was that wherein He elighted, and I was daily His delight before His face at all times."[4 And a little after he thus pursues his discourse from the same point: #8212; 4. Since, therefore, the Father is eternal, the Son also is ete

nal, Light of Light. For where there is the begetter, there is also the off pring. And if there is no offspring, how and of what can He be the begetter But both are, and always are. Since, then, God is the Light, Christ is the Brightness. And since He is a Spirit—for says He, "God is a Spir t"[5]—fittingly again is Christ called Breath; for "He,&quo ;[6] saith He, "is the breath of God's power."[7] And again e says:— 5. Moreover, the Son alone, always co-existing with the Father, and filled with Him who is, Himself also is, since He is of the Fat er. FROM THE SAME FIRST BOOK. 6. But when I spoke of things create , and certain works to be considered, I hastily put forward illustrations o such things, as it were little appropriate, when I said neither is the pla t the same as the husbandman, nor the boat the same as the boatbuilder.[8] ut then I lingered rather upon things suitable and more adapted to the natu e of the thing, and I unfolded in many words, by various carefully consider d arguments, what things were more true; which things, moreover, I have set forth to you in another letter. And in these things I have also proved the alsehood of the charge which they bring against me—to wit, that I do ot maintain that Christ is consubstantial with God. For although I say that I have never either found or read this word in the sacred Scriptures, yet o her reasonings, which I immediately subjoined, are in no wise discrepant fr m this view, because I brought forward as an illustration human offspring, hich assuredly is of the same kind as the begetter; and I said that parents are absolutely distinguished from their children by the fact alone that the themselves are not their children, or that it would assuredly be a matter f necessity that there would neither be parents nor children. But, as I sai before, I have not the letter in my possession, on account of the present ondition of affairs; otherwise I would have sent you the very words that I hen wrote, yea, and a copy of the whole letter, and I will send it if at an time I shall have the opportunity. I remember, further, that I added many imilitudes from things kindred to one another. For I said that the plant, w ether it grows up from seed or from a root, is different from that whence i sprouted, although it is absolutely of the same nature; and similarly, tha a river flowing from a spring takes another form and name: for that neithe is the spring called the river, nor the river the spring, but that these a e two things, and that the spring indeed is, as it were, the father, while he river is the water from the spring. But they feign that they do not see hese things and the like to them which are written, as if they were blind; ut they endeavour to assail me from a distance with expressions too careles ly used, as if they were stones, not observing that on things of which they are ignorant, and which require interpretation to be understood, illustrati ns that are not only remote, but even contrary, will often throw light. FROM THE SAME FIRST BOOK. 7. It was said above that God is the spring f all good things, but the Son was called the river flowing from Him; becau e the word is an emanation of the mind, and—to speak after human fash on—is emitted from the heart by the mouth. But the mind which springs forth by the tongue is different from the word which exists in the heart. F r this latter, after it has emitted the former, remains and is what it was efore; but the mind sent forth flies away, and is carried everywhere around

and thus each is in each although one is from the other, and they are one lthough they are two. And it is thus that the Father and the Son are said t be one, and to be in one another. FROM THE SECOND BOOK. 8. The in ividual haines uttered by me can neither be separated from one another, nor parted.[1] I spoke of the Father, and before I made mention of the Son I al eady signified Him in the Father. I added the Son; and the Father, even alt ough I had not previously named Him, had already been absolutely comprehend d in the Son. I added the Holy Spirit; but, at the same time, I conveyed un er the name whence and by whom He proceeded. But they are ignorant that nei her the Father, in that He is Father, can be separated from the Son, for th t name is the evident ground of coherence and conjunction; nor can the Son e separated from the Father, for this word Father indicates association bet een them. And there is, moreover, evident a Spirit who can neither be disjo ned from Him who sends, nor from Him who brings Him. How, then, should I wh use such names think that these are absolutely divided and separated the o e from the other? After a few words he adds:— 9. Thus, inde d, we expand the indivisible Unity into a Trinity; and again we contract th Trinity, which cannot be diminished, into a Unity. FROM THE SAME SECON BOOK. 10. But if any quibbler, from the fact that I said that God is he Maker and Creator of all things, thinks that I said that He is also Crea or of Christ, let him observe that I first called Him Father, in which word the Son also is at the same time expressed.[2] For after I called the Fathe the Creator, I added, Neither is He the Father of those things whereof He s Creator, if He who begot is properly understood to be a Father (for we wi l consider the latitude of this word Father in what follows). Nor is a make a father, if it is only a framer who is called a maker. For among the Gree s, they who are wise are said to be makers of their books. The apostle also says, "a doer (soil. maker) of the law."[3] Moreover, of matters f the heart, of which kind are virtue and vice, men are called doers (scil. makers); after which manner God said, "I expected that it should make udgment, but it made iniquity."[4] 11. That neither must this say ng be thus blamed;[5] for he says that he used the name of Maker on account of the flesh which the Word had assumed, and which certainly was made. But f any one should suspect that that had been said of the Word, even this als was to be heard without contentiousness. For as I do not think that the Wo d was a thing made, so I do not say that God was its Maker, but its Father. Yet still, if at any time, discoursing of the Son, I may have casually said that God was His Maker, even this mode of speaking would not be without def nce. For the wise men among the Greeks call themselves the makers of their ooks, although the same are fathers of their books. Moreover, divine Script re calls us makers of those motions which proceed from the heart, when it c lls us doers of the law of judgment and of justice. FROM THE SAME SECON BOOK.

12. In the beginning was the Word.[6] But that was not the Word which produced the Word.[7] For" the Word was with God."[6] The L rd is Wisdom; it was not therefore Wisdom that produced Wisdom; for "I was that" says He, "wherein He delighted[8] Christ is truth; but quot;blessed," says He, "is the God of truth." FROM THE HIRD BOOK. 13. Life is begotten of life in the same way as the river h s flowed forth from the spring, and the brilliant light is ignited from the inextinguishable light.[9] FROM THE FOURTH BOOK.

14. Even as ou mind emits from itself a word,[7]—as says the prophet, "My hear hath uttered forth a good word,"[10]—and each of the two is dis inct the one from the other, and maintaining a peculiar place, and one that is distin- guished from the other; since the former indeed abides and is st rred in the heart, while the latter has its place in the tongue and in the outh. And yet they are not apart from one another, nor deprived of one anot er; neither is the mind without the word, nor is the word without the mind; but the mind makes the word and appears in the word, and the word exhibits he mind wherein it was made. And the mind indeed is, as it were, the word i manent, while the word is the mind breaking forth.[1] The mind passes into he word, and the word transmits the mind to the surrounding hearers; and th s the mind by means of the word takes its place in the souls of the hearers entering in at the same time as the word. And indeed the mind is, as it we e, the father of the word, existing in itself; but the word is as the son o the mind, and cannot be made before it nor without it, but exists with it, whence it has taken its seed and origin. In the same manner, also, the Almi hty Father and Universal Mind has before all things the Son, the Word, and he discourse,[2] as the interpreter and messenger of Himself. ABOUT THE MIDDLE OF THE TREATISE. 15. If, from the fact that there are three hyp stases, they say that they are divided, there are three whether they like i or no, or else let them get rid of the divine Trinity altogether.[3] A D AGAIN: For on this account after the Unity there is also the most di ine Trinity.[4] THE CONCLUSION OF THE ENTIRE TREATISE. 16. In acco dance with all these things, the: form, moreover, and rule being received f om the elders who have lived before us, we also, with a voice in accordance with them, will both acquit ourselves of thanks to you, and of the letter w ich we are now writing. And to God the Father, and His Son our Lord Jesus C rist, with the Holy Spirit, be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.[ ]

V.—THE EPISTLE TO BISHOP BASILIDES.[6] CANON I.

Dionysi s to Basilides, my beloved son, and my brother, a fellow-minister with me i holy things, and an obedient servant of God, in the Lord greeting. Yo have sent to me, most faithful and accomplished son, in order to inquire w at is the proper hour for bringing the fast to a close[7] on the day of Pen ecost.[8] For you say that there are some of the brethren who hold that tha should be done at cockcrow, and others who hold that it should be at night all.[9] For the brethren in Rome, as they say, wait for the cock; whereas, egarding those here, you told us that they would have it earlier.[10] And i is your anxious desire, accordingly, to have the hour presented accurately and determined with perfect exactness, [11] which indeed is a matter of di ficulty and uncertainty. However, it will be acknowledged cordially by all, that from the date of the resurrection of our Lord, those who up to that ti e have been humbling their souls with fastings, ought at once to begin thei festal joy and gladness. But in what you have written to me you have made ut very clearly, and with an intelligent understanding of the Holy Scriptur s, that no very exact account seems to be offered in them of the hour at wh ch He rose. For the evangelists have given different descriptions of the pa ties who came to the sepulchre one after another,[12] and all have declared that they found the Lord risen already. It was "in the end of the Sabb th," as Matthew has said;[13] it was "early, when it was yet dark " as John writes;[14] it was "very early in the morning," as Luke puts it; and it was "very early in the morning, at the rising of he sun," as Mark tells us. Thus no one has shown us clearly the exact ime when He rose. It is admitted, however, that those who came to the sepul hre in the end of the Sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first day of he week,[15] found Him no longer lying in it. And let us not suppose that t e evangelists disagree or contradict each other. But even although there ma seem to be some small difficulty as to the subject of our inquiry, if they all agree that the light of the world, our Lord, rose on that one night, wh le they differ with respect to the hour, we may well seek with wise and fai hful mind to harmonize their statements. The narrative by Matthew then, run thus: "In the end of the Sabbath as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week,(1) came Mary Magdalene, and the other Mary, to see the sep lchre. And, behold, there was a great earthquake: for the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone, and sat upon it. And his countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow: and or fear of him the keepers did shake, and became as dead men. And the angel answered and said unto the women, Fear not ye: for I know that ye seek Jesu , which was crucified. He is not here; for He is risen, as He said."(2 Now this phrase "in the end" will be thought by some to signify, according to the common use(3) of the word, the evening:of the Sabbath; whi e others, with a better perception of the fact, will say that it does not i dicate that, but a late hour in the night,(4) as the phrase "in the en "(5) denotes slowness and length of time. Also because he speaks of ni ht, and not of evening, he has added the words, "as it began to dawn t ward the first day of the week." And the parties here did not come yet as the others say, "bearing spices," but "to see the sepulc re;" and they discovered the occurrence of the earthquake, and the ang l sitting upon the stone, and heard from him the declaration, "He is n t here, He is risen." And to the same effect is the testimony of John. "The first day of the week," says he, "came Mary Magdalene e rly, when it was yet dark, unto the sepulchre, and seeth the stone taken aw y from the sepulchre."(6) Only, according to this "when it was ye

dark," she had come in advance.(7) And Luke says: "They rested t e Sabbath-day, according to the commandment. Now, upon the first day of the week, very early in the morning, they came unto the sepulchre, bringing the spices which they had prepared; and they found the stone rolled away from t e sepulchre."(8) This phrase "very early in the morning"(9) robably indicates the early dawn(10) of the first day of the week; and thus when the Sabbath itself was wholly past, and also the whole night succeedi g it, and when another day had begun, they came, bringing spices and myrrh, and then it became apparent that He had already risen long before. And Mark follows this, and says: "They had bought sweet spices, in order that t ey might come and anoint Him. And very early (in the morning), the first da of the week, they come unto the sepulchre at the rising of the sun."( 1) For this evangelist also has used the term "very early," which is just the same as the "very early in the morning" employed by t e former; and he has added, "at the rising of the sun." Thus they set out, and took their way first when it was "very early in the morni g," or (as Mark says) when it was "very early;" but on the r ad, and by their stay at the sepulchre, they spent the time till it was sun ise. And then the young man clad in white said to them, "He is risen, e is not here." As the case stands thus, we make the following stateme t and explanation to those who seek an exact account of the specific hour, r half-hour, or quarter of an hour, at which it is proper to begin their re oicing over our Lord's rising from the dead. Those who are too hasty, and g ve up even before midnight,(12) we reprehend as remiss and intemperate, and as almost breaking off from their course in their precipitation,(13) for it is a wise man's word, "That is not little in life which is within a li tle." And those who hold out and continue for a very long time, and pe severe even on to the fourth watch, which is also the time at which our Sav our manifested Himself walking upon the sea to those who were then on the d ep, we receive as noble and laborious disciples. On those, again, who pause and refresh themselves in the course as they are moved or as they are able, let us not press very hard:(14) for all do not carry out the six days of fa ting(15) either equally or alike; but some pass even all the days as a fast remaining without food through the whole; while others take but two, and o hers three, and others four, and others not even one. And to those who have laboured painfully through these protracted fasts. and have thereafter beco e exhausted and well-nigh undone, pardon ought to be extended if they are s mewhat precipitate in taking food. But if there are any who not only declin such protracted fasting, but refuse at the first to fast at all, and rathe indulge themselves luxuriously during the first four days, and then when t ey reach the last two days—viz., the preparation and the Sabbath&#821 ;fast with due rigour during these, and these alone, and think that they do something grand and brilliant if they hold out till the morning, I cannot t ink that they have gone through the time on equal terms with those who have been practising the same during several days before. This is the counsel wh ch, in accordance with my apprehension of the question, I have offered you n writing on these matters.(1) CANON II. The question touching wome in the time of their separation, whether it is proper for them when in suc a condition to enter the house of God, I consider a superfluous inquiry. F r I do not think that, if they are believing and pious women, they will the selves be rash enough in such a condition either to approach the holy table or to touch the body and blood of the Lord. Certainly the woman who had the issue of blood of twelve years' standing did not touch the Lord Himself, bu only the hem of His garment, with a view to her cure.(2) For to pray, howe er a person may be situated, and to remember the Lord, in whatever conditio a person may be, and to offer up petitions for the obtaining of help, are

xercises altogether blameless. But the individual who is not perfectly pure both in soul and in body, shall be interdicted from approaching the holy of holies. CANON lII. Moreover, those who are competent, and who are a vanced in years, ought to be judges of themselves in these matters. For tha it is proper to abstain from each other by consent, in order that they may be free for a season to give themselves to prayer, and then come together a ain, they have heard from Paul in his epistle.(3) CANON IV. As to t ose who are overtaken by an involuntary flux in the night-time, let such fo low the testimony of their own conscience, and consider themselves as to wh ther they are doubtfully minded(4) in this matter or not. And he that doubt th in the matter of meats, the apostle tells us, "is damned if he eat. quot;(5) In these things, therefore, let every one who approaches God be of a good conscience, and of a proper confidence, so far as his own judgment i concerned. And, indeed, it is in order to show your regard for us (for you are not ignorant, beloved,) that you have proposed these questions to us, m king us of one mind, as indeed we are, and of one spirit with yourself. And I, for my part, have thus set forth my opinions in public, not as a teacher but only as it becomes us with all simplicity to confer with each other. A d when you have examined this opinion of mine, my most intelligent son, you will write back to me your notion of these matters, and let me know whateve may seem to you to be just and preferable, and whether you approve of my j dgment in these things.(6) That it may fare well with you, my beloved son,